It’s January 2016, and all I can think is “Where the hell did 2007 go?” Mind like a steel trap, I know–prone to rusting in damp weather.

But that rusty state of mind is precisely why I feel compelled to jump on the New Year’s resolution bandwagon: If I don’t write down a few goals in a fashion that makes me nominally accountable for achieving them, by the time December 2016 rolls around, I will forget what the hell it was I meant to do this year.

So, my list, in no particular order:

1. Meet my 2016 Goodreads Reading Challenge goal of 50 books this year. Think that’s funny? Last year, I pledged to read 100. Yeah, that didn’t happen, mostly because of Resolution 2:
2. Finish reading Ulysses. It’s been on my list for two years running now; I figure if I actually do that this year, that counts for at least 20 normal books.
3. Mayyyybe…just maybe, I might be the tiniest bit interested in trying a half marathon. This one might be more along the lines of a fantasy, rather than a resolution, but I’m listing it anyway because as we all know, NYR’s are all about optimism (and laughter; lots of laughter).
4. Walk my dog more often–we’re both suffering from post-holiday bingeing (but at least my doctor didn’t tell me I’m starting to look like a coffee table).
5. Postpone going all Silver Fox for my hair color another year. Sorry, just can’t do it.
6. Apply the 1-Hour Rule more often. This is my new rule for time management: I will split my day up into 1-hour segments, allowing an hour for each activity on my to-do list. This should allow me to be more efficient, so I should be able to finish everything on my list by 2019, give or take a year.
7. Switch back to writing my to-do list on paper instead of my white board, first, so I feel a greater sense of accomplishment, and second, once I erase it, I can’t remember what I did.
8. Start keeping a journal. This blog is, i suppose, a journal of sorts, but I’m pretty restrictive on the more personal details of my life online–after all, we wouldn’t want anyone to post pirated video of me
   

   Photo credit: http://thatswhatlisathinks.com/2013/10/

   and my chubby Weimaraner waddling off our New Year’s Resolution wagon, now would we?

9. Blog more regularly. Well, here I am, so I can check that one off the list. Wait–I have to do this again?
10. Be more present in the moment–deeper conversations, better listening, longer hugs, and much more gratitude. Life is short; drink it in.

Well, there you have it. I could probably go on, but since I’m already four minutes late to write in my journal and seventeen minutes late to walk my coffee table, I’ve gotta run. Happy New Year!

Blowing one’s own horn is something I think many writers struggle with; that’s why it feels so good when someone else decides to do the honors for you:

I’m beyond pleased to announce that my story, “Te Absolvo,” has won Best Short Story in the 2015 William Faulkner Literary Awards, sponsored by the Tallahatchie Riverfest Literary Association.

I wasn’t able to attend the awards luncheon (logistics stink sometimes), but if you’re interested, The New Albany Gazette printed up a sweet article about the awards ceremony; it even rated a bit of local TV coverage (woohoo!).

Ask any writer (myself included), and they’ll probably tell you they don’t write for awards or publication–they write because they love to write. But ask any one of those same writers that same question after they’ve received an award or been published, and they’ll tell you those things sure don’t suck.

Many thanks to the Tallahatchie Riverfest Literary Association and the Union County Heritage Museum in New Albany for selecting my story; I’m honored. To read “Te Absolvo,” click here.

For the first time in over a decade, this summer, I did not sign my kids up for a single damned thing. No sports clinics. No camps. No lessons. Zip. Zilch. Zero. Nada. Nuthin’. And let me tell you, the first day of summer break this year was one of the most terrifying days I’ve ever experienced as a parent. What was I thinking? What in the heck was I going to do with them all summer? How many days left until school starts?

Well, today is their first day back to school, and somehow, we survived. How’d it go? Well, I think now, with (of course) perfect hindsight, this may well have been one of the best summers we’ve ever had, because boredom, as it turns out, is a very good thing:

• It motivates: My daughter cleaned out her closet voluntarily, which was inconceivable; until this summer, we all thought Kids Choosing to Clean Closets signaled the End of Days.
• It stimulates: This is her copy of Moby Dick, her summer reading assignment. Annotated and cross-referenced. Take that, SparkNotes.
• It inspires: We started watching Jeopardy as a family this summer, leading to some amazing conversations about history, culture, books, etc. (Of course, we also started watching Family Feud with Steve Harvey, which sparked some amazing conversations with our adolescent sons about how many different words there are for boobs and sex. You can’t win ‘em all.)
• It incentivizes: All three kids now know how to use the oven and clean their own bathrooms. ‘nuff said.
• It educates: With no camps, clinics, or lessons to eat up the day (or our budget), we were free to spend time each week at different museums and zoos. We “swam” at an indoor beach; stumbled upon DC’s beautiful memorial to fallen police officers; learned about real-life spies; petted jellyfish and rays, watched sharks eat, and made the acquaintance of the astonishing mantis shrimp.
  

  Mantis Shrimp at the National Aquarium in Baltimore

  

  The Beach Exhibit at the National Building Museum

  

  National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial

• It liberates: We all know how to use the DC Metro now, myself included; they no longer have to worry about Mom forgetting how to get home.
• It makes the old feel new again: Let’s just say, I am no longer the Queen of Monopoly; my eldest son, the Slum King, now rules the land (once we let him out of jail).
• It permits, among other things: sleeping in; quiet time; binge-watching and binge-gaming (Seriously: my sons both declared they were, at long last, bored of video games); conversations, both silly and deep; silliest face and grossest belching contests (judges were split on whether that last one deserved a space in the Summer Debriefing); and staying up late to watch the ends of movies we know so well we can all quote them in chorus (“No more rhymes now, I mean it. Anybody want a peanut?”).

I don’t want you to think for a minute that every day of this long, hot summer was a perfect idyll; that would be a bald-faced lie. While boredom allows for a lot of cool things to take place, it also allows for a fair share of unpleasantness (*inspired by actual events):

•  It irritates: “How many damned times are you going to watch that same episode of Modern Family before you shower?”
• It aggravates: “You’re sitting in my spot!” “I took the dog out last time!” “How do three people manage to use twenty-nine glasses in four hours?”
• It peeves: “He’s putting his feet on me.” “She threw her wrapper at me.” “He’s kicking my chair, on purpose.”

And, inevitably:

• It bores. “Oh, my God…how many days left ‘til school starts?” (*uttered by each one of us at least once during the past three months).

But the side effect of all that boredom this year, something that had been missing from all our past, scheduled-to-the-nanosecond summers without my even noticing it, is that (when it wasn’t suffocating us), boredom actually inspired a lot of creativity in my kids. It restored their interest in the world around them (they watch the news now, probably because they tired of watching everything else). It fostered a renewed camaraderie with their siblings (because when “someone” leaves the fridge open and the milk spoils, or “someone” spills crap all over the couch, United We Stand is the best defense). Boredom, in the end, can take a lot of the credit for us all feeling ready for the school year to begin again at last–because we didn’t have anything else left to do (and the fridge and pantry were just about empty, anyway).

So yeah—this first day, maybe people will ask our kids “What’d you do this summer?” and maybe they’ll say “Nuthin’.” But I already know, that along with all that “nuthin’’” we did this summer, we also found the time for a whole lot of something special, and we have boredom to thank for it.